


Draw

by Savageseraph



Category: Sharpe (TV)
Genre: Community: seans_50, Competition, Frottage, M/M, Rough Sex, Roughhousing, Soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-30
Updated: 2009-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharpe knew the competition between him and Harper started because they'd never had the chance to properly finish a fight, to prove who was the better man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draw

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/seans_50/profile)[**seans_50**](http://community.livejournal.com/seans_50/) June Film Challenge using _Sharpe's Rifles_ as the inspiration for the fic. Many thanks to [](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/)**caras_galadhon** for helping me with the fiddly bits.

Sharpe knew the competition between him and Harper started because they'd never had the chance to properly finish a fight, to prove who was the better man. It wasn't for lack of trying, but some bugger always cut in and put a stop to things before they could play out to the end. Felt like they had a flock of bloody chaperones making sure things didn't go too far.

When it became clear they weren't going to have the chance to pummel each other into submission, the testing didn't stop. It just took on other forms: who could down the most whiskey before passing out or puking, who could piss the farthest, who could shoot the most bottles off a fence, who could win the prettier woman. Who could bed the _most_ women. While one or the other might come out on top some of the time, it wasn't enough to claim victory.

After a night of drinking, they'd both staggered to Sharpe's room, each keeping the other more or less upright until they spilled into the room. Sharpe nearly lost his balance, bumped into Harper who leaned back against him to keep from falling. At least that's how Sharpe remembered getting pinned between the door and Harper.

Before he could laugh or shove the bastard away, Harper's mouth was on his, and the room felt like it was tipping sideways and taking him with it. The kiss was rough, possessive, and Sharpe tasted blood, though he wasn't sure who it belonged to when Harper cupped him through his trousers, palm pressing against his hard cock.

"I knew it." Harper's voice was all satisfaction. "I fuckin' well knew it."

The touch lasted barely a moment before Sharpe tried to shove Harper back through the opposite wall and into the next room, but Harper wrapped his arms around Sharpe's waist. _Tenacious bugger._ As they struggled, hips rubbed against hips, cock ground against cock, until they were both sweated and achingly hard, until their breath came in sharp gasps. They both stilled, each looking at the other as steadily as possible. Then they starting rubbing against each other more deliberately, muffling urgent sounds with a deep kiss, and when Sharpe's cock twitched just as he came, he felt Harper do the same.

Sure, Sharpe wanted Harper to come undone first, but sometimes, he thought as they both slid to the floor, there was nothing wrong when a game ended in a draw.


End file.
